Dissolution and Recovery
by Velgamidragon
Summary: Holy Rome, missing since the Thirty Years' War, was first found by France and dissolved in August of 1806. How does this affect France, who saw him born, Austria, who was his guardian, and Prussia, who had ignored him throughout his entire life? Only one young country found at the end of the Napoleonic Wars unwittingly offers a chance at healing.
1. Dissolution of Holy Rome: France

Dissolution and Recovery

**Author's Note: This fic is going to be five chapters and they all center around my personal details of the generally-accepted HRE = Germany theory in the Hetalia fanbase. The points of view will be specific to a particular time or character and they will go France, Austria, Prussia, France, France. Updating will be infrequent, but the next two chapters have already been hashed out, so those will probably be out before the end of the year.**

**Warning: This story will feature a great deal of personal headcanon regarding family history (from a LOT of research) and if you've read my "Two States in One Nation" story, then this one will expand upon some aspects that I touched upon in that (mainly regarding Prussia). This particular chapter also contains a lot of French because I can't help myself.**

**Disclaimer: This is for the most part historically-based with the Hetalia twist and my own headcanons regarding the characters and their relations.**

**Dissolution of Holy Rome: France**

In the center-most portion of what would become the future, modern Germany, France cautiously picked his way through dense, dark undergrowth of one of the most beautiful forests in Central Europe, but once he'd passed beyond it, he would be in completely unfamiliar territory. It had been a long time since he had visited the southern lands, over a millennium even, but his sister's former territory was still familiar to him, even though she'd died so long ago.

_With the willful, headstrong Gaul as their mother and the mighty Roman Empire as their father, they had grown up together with the name Francia, and to each other, they were Parisage and Wisabada._

Parisage... Nobody would ever call him that again. Nobody alive even knew that he had once been like Romano and Veneziano for an empire, or if they were alive, they didn't remember or were too young. The other countries had a good deal more of their own affairs to worry about at the time, all being children themselves, than ever paying attention to the condition of one Frankish Kingdom.

_With the death of their boss, Louis the Pious, son of the Great Charlemagne, he and Wisabada had found themselves separated by Charlemagne's grandsons in 843._

It was very unusual for a country to be away from his own lands unless he was at war, but then he would have been accompanied by his army and either his boss or his military generals and the like.

_Parisage's boss ended up being Louis's third son, Charles the Bald and his new name was West Francia while his little sister took Louis's second son, Louis the German as her boss and became East Francia. They never did figure out between them who Middle Francia was, the piece of the kingdom that was inherited by the eldest son, Lothair I. Perhaps their mother's disciple, Belgica, had some children that represented the northern part of the Middle Kingdom._

But France was on a special mission right now, carrying out his boss's direct orders and no one but him could accomplish it.

_Not once, did they let the separation bother them and they fondly called each other Ouest (1) and Est (2) to remind the other how silly it was that something like partible inheritance had physically separated them. Yet physical separation made it very difficult for Parisage to watch out for his sister as well as a big brother should, especially in light of her social interests._

Orders that he absolutely despised and prayed to God that he would fail in fulfilling.

_He would never have known that his precious little Wisabada was very much in love Germania, the very representation of their Germanic bosses since their birth, if he had not stumbled upon it. It was nothing obscene, but there was far too much tenderness in her deep blue eyes to be passed off as simple friendship and Germania - that old geezer! - seemed to reciprocate feelings for her, or at least a contentedness in her presence that Parisage couldn't stomach. That was his little sister! Denied was the fact that his sister was physically fourteen and a full-grown woman capable of making her own decisions; why Germania? ? ?_

Because he had only one reason for being so far from his land and in one of the forests of _Est's_ former territory.

"_Pourquoi, ma petite __sœur__? !" (3)_

"_Oh, Parisage..." Wisabada had chuckled when he'd confronted her about it, "You inherited the love of life from our parents. I inherited the love of war. There are very few that __**I **__can understand and love, mon cher frère (4); the curse of being our mother's daughter, I suppose. But you Ouest, you were meant to love many and I know you can. You've already proven yourself to be __**very**__ good at it," she added with a roguish wink, causing Parisage to flush in embarrassment that his little sister knew about his... uh... acts of l'amour._

_He had allowed his sister her choice because he loved her and wanted her happy. He would not have allowed it if he had known that her chosen relationship would ultimately kill her._

His boss, Emperor Napoloén Bonaparte, the man who had brought him out of the horrid nightmare of his Reign of Terror, had given him the orders to find Wisabada's long-lost son, Holy Roman Empire...

_Parisage had not actually expected Wisabada's relationship to result in a newborn son in 962, christened with the name Roman Empire after their late father. The boy, his nephew, possessed the blond hair of his parents and the blue eyes of infancy; he hoped that beautiful blue wouldn't change to a different color within the first year. He was such an adorable boy!_

… and kill him.

_But there was something wrong with Wisabada ever since that day in 962 when she gave birth to her adorable son. She wasn't as lively as she used to be like the life had been sucked out of her. She lived, but she looked like she was only a flickering reflection of herself, but she always brushed him off when he asked how she was._

No one had seen the little one since the Thirty Years' War, but he had always entertained the thought that maybe he was alive somewhere.

_Roman Empire Jr. grew very quickly (Parisage was happy that Roman Empire Jr.'s eyes had retained that gorgeous blue), like the-growth-of-a-normal-human-infant quickly until he was about five years old (did baby nations normally grow that quickly? He didn't know), past the absolute dependence of infancy, when Wisabada fell dangerously-ill. Then it came clear to him._

Now, he desperately hoped that he was already dead.

_East Francia had ceased to exist when the Roman Empire was declared and she'd only lived as long as she had in order to get her son through his infancy. Only another nation/kingdom/empire could nurse an infant of the same. He was sure a human wouldn't be able to handle it. The woman couldn't even handle his love-making the first time they experienced it. His little sister was dying because Roman Empire Jr. was born..._

Nothing could convince Napoleon that he already was.

"_Parisage, don't hate my son."_

_He didn't know how she'd known that he'd begun to resent the boy's existence. Was she really younger than him? She seemed so much wiser. Did it have something to do with being a mother?_

"_This isn't Roman Empire's fault and it's going to be hard enough on him as it is when I'm gone. I don't think Germania's going to hang on much longer after me."_

_Germania? ! ! This was news! How could she tell? ?_

"_He's tired Parisage. One of these days, he'll just disappear and all of them will be upset. Dear brother, I know that what I'm asking is impossible, but please... do your best to look after my son? Take care of him as best you can when I go, __s'il __vous __plaît__, __mon __frère (5)__?"_

He _did_ try and look out for him.

_Wisabada died within three days of telling him so. Roman Empire had completely absorbed his mother's reasons for existing in terms of both people and territory._

But little Roman Empire Jr.'s bosses and his German brothers, when they were old enough, could and did take up the responsibility more-easily than _he_ could, and so often his own goals conflicted with Austria's, the older brother who became Jr.'s guardian, that he was against his Little Brother more often than he liked. And now his current boss... The conversation they'd had before France had been given this grisly assignment.

"The Holy Roman Empire has weakened considerably since that time, c'est vrai (6), but it still exists and so the being must exist as well to represent it, even in this debilitating state. He has never been dissolved and his continued existence in such a deplorable condition threatens the Confederation of the Rhine that I plan to be the protector. It'll have the added effect of further weakening the Holy Roman Empire's authority over the German kingdom. After the Battle of Austerlitz, Austria's Archduke will have no choice, but to capitulate to my demands."

_Il avait promis (7)!_ He had promised Wisabada that he would look after her son as best he could, as much as he could get away with, and he had, but now he was here searching for that same son to kill him. Dear God, he hoped he wouldn't find him!

God was not on his side it seemed.

Or perhaps, Satan was being particularly active and malicious today.

France found him. Little Holy Roman Empire.

But he was not the same 7-year-old boy he had last seen him as.

He looked like he was ten now (probably as a result of his government's existence and influence even if it lacked the absolute authority it once possessed) and the fanciful black clothes were replaced with more traditional German peasant attire and his German-inherited bangs were long down his forehead, but he still recognized him instantly. Holy Rome had inherited the exact shade of blue of his father's eyes, but the softness in them could only be from the la Bonnefoi blood in his veins (he didn't know when his last name had been slurred and modified to Bonnefoy) and his golden-colored hair was his mother's color, not like Germania's pale, bleached blond. He would have been overjoyed to see his nephew under far more different circumstances.

"Oh, Holy Rome," he half-moaned, half-wailed.

He hadn't meant to be heard.

Holy Rome looked towards him and when there was no expression of recognition in his blue eyes, France felt a throwback of _déjà__ vu_ strike him. Those unfocused eyes were just like Wisabada's during her last four years of life when she was dying. Dying, but unable to die. Just like his mother back then, Holy Rome was missing something, but he had been missing it for a long time.

"Yes," Holy Rome said, "That's my name. Who are you? I don't suppose it matters though. I don't even remember how I got _here_."

That's what it was. For the past 160 years since he disappeared, the loss of his absolute authority, the lack of unity, and the rise of the more powerful German rulers within his land had slowly caused him to lose his memories until he'd forgotten everything but his name, it seemed. He was quite literally the Holy Roman Empire in name only. Did he even remember little Italy anymore? He wasn't about to ask.

"I guess you could call me '_mal chance_' (8)," France said with a dry laugh, though he felt far from humorous or happy, "This just isn't my half-century."

His gruesome Revolution...

His Reign of Terror...

His failed Republic...

And now Holy Rome...

France drew his sword – guns were still very difficult for him to use for a number of reasons – and tried not to stare at that innocent, young face that was completely defenseless and unaware of what he was going to do. He couldn't decide, as he nervously twisted the sword in his hand, if it was a blessing or a curse that Holy Rome couldn't remember anything apart from his name.

This was hardly a fair fight- no, it wasn't a fight at all, but an execution.

But on the other hand, he wouldn't know that it was his own uncle, Big Brother France, that was trying to kill him.

He charged forward, sword poised on the ready.

It didn't justify his actions in the slightest or make this grisly business any easier, but at least Holy Rome wouldn't suffer any sense of familial betrayal.

It wasn't clean at all. In fact, it was horribly messy. At the last second, he'd faltered, but he'd been too close, too fast, and the force continued to carry him forward. What should have been a quick, clean kill turned into a messy, altered stab further downwards than originally-intended. He'd missed the heart and he hadn't even stabbed Holy Rome mid-gut. He'd caught him just under the last left rib and the blade sunk through his left side to his lower back. France was horrified. That much difference between the final blow and the intended blow! If he'd just moved a second sooner, he wouldn't have hit him at all! If he hadn't faltered at all, then Holy Rome wouldn't be writhing in pain and spewing blood! He didn't know what to do! He couldn't leave him, but he couldn't finish him either! France gulped. It wasn't the _right_ thing, but it was better than nothing. He broke his sword in half (it wasn't easy, but he wasn't a normal human and he was _very_ strong thanks to Napoleon) and set his half down to attend to Holy Rome as best he could.

"Mon Dieu, Wisabada, tue-moi maintenant (9)," France murmured to himself as he removed his military coat and tore off the sleeves of his white undershirt. "Prends ma vie, ma petite sœur. Je ne dois pas vivre si je tuerai ces jeunes pays (10). No Holy Rome, don't pull it out! You'll bleed faster!" he cried out in Latin and quickly knelt beside him with his now-detached shirt sleeves.

As he wrapped his sleeves around the sword and pressed them against the wound, the full calamity of what he had done began to sink in.

"Je suis le monstre le plus mal du monde! Personne ne peux me sauver- non, personne ne doit _vouloir_ me sauver (11)," he said quietly in his meticulous intensity upon the wrapping.

Holy Rome was looking at him blankly and his eyes were less focused than before. It seemed he had forgotten his French too. That was probably a good thing. He also looked like he was going to lose consciousness soon; there was only so much France could do to slow the bleeding.

"Désolé," France said as he stood up, knowing that Holy Rome couldn't understand him, "Oublie-moi quand tu dors (12)."

He slipped his now-bare arms through the discarded military coat, picked up his piece of the broken sword (it was standard issue, he'd get another one before he returned and Napoleon questioned him about it), and left the bleeding Holy Rome without looking back. He hadn't killed him outright, he couldn't do that, but even with his poor medical treatment, it was unlikely that somebody would find him before he bled to death. As he headed toward Vienna, where his boss was currently in-meeting with Austria's, he wondered how his precipitous sword-play adjustment had affected the content of that meeting if not the results.

* * *

_Now for all of my French translations because I love this language! ! ! XD:_

_(1) Ouest - West_

_(2) Est - East_

_(3) __Pourquoi, ma petite __sœur?! - Why, my little sister?!_

_(4) mon cher frère - my dear brother_

_(5) __s'il __vous __plaît__, __mon __frère - please, my brother_

_(6) c'est vrai - it's true_

_(7) Il avait promis! - He had promised!_

_(8) mal chance - bad luck_

_(9) Mon Dieu, Wisabada, tue-moi maintenant - My God, Wisabada, kill me now_

_(10) Prends ma vie, ma petite sœur. Je ne dois pas vivre si je tuerai ces jeunes pays - Take my life, little sister. I should not live if I will kill these young countries._

_(11) Je suis le monstre le plus mal du monde! Personne ne peux me sauver- non, personne ne doit _vouloir_ me sauver - I am the worst monster of the world! Nobody can save me- no, nobody should _want_ to save me._

_(12) Désolé. Oublie-moi quand tu dors - Sorry. Forget me when you sleep._

_Now for some extra notes. Part of this (the part about Holy Rome's parentage) was started when I saw the season 4 English dub Hetalia bloopers and Germany said "That was my mother's cup, you fool!". The second part (me deciding who Germany's mother was) came from a map of Europe when I saw the Frankish Kingdom, Francia, split up into first West and East Francia, and THEN saw just how easily East Francia's territory fit as Holy Roman Empire's. The reason I decided that East Francia would be Holy Rome's mother and not what Holy Rome was called before he became first Roman Empire and then Holy Roman Empire (he didn't become 'Holy' until 1254) is because I swear that I read somewhere something about drawing East Francia away from West Francia and closer to the Germans living in the region. I did not really state this in the fic, but another reason why East Francia died and didn't become the Kingdom of Germany, for example, is because East Francia was then further divided into three parts: Bavaria, Saxony, and Swabia, and the ruler of the throne was electionally-chosen between them and the other stem duchies that slowly came into being over the decades. So in the end, there was no room for East Francia even though there was a title for the general ruler of her territories before they took the next step and became crowned Emperor._

_Italy's name is also Veneziano and I noticed that only Romano calls him that, otherwise he's referred to as either Italy or North Italy. So I did something sorta similar here and I based their names off of important cities/capitals just like the Italy brothers. Obviously, France's other name is based on 'Paris', his capital and heart, and I chose '-age' to go on the end because most French adjectives that have that ending are masculine. Now for East Francia's other name, I chose the town (it is now a city) of Wiesbaden for many reasons. It had a great deal of Roman influence (hence supporting being a daughter of Roman Empire), Wiesbaden was the site of a Frankish royal palace, and the town was part of "the heartland" of East Francia when the Frankish Empire split. I actually didn't do anything to adjust the name. The town of Wiesbaden was already recorded as 'Wisabada' by Charlemagne's biographer sometime around 830 A.D._


	2. Dissolution of Holy Rome: Austria

**Author's Note: The main headcanon of mine present is that Liechtenstein is Austria's and Hungary's kid, so there will be a little bit of that. Also, I have NO idea how an Imperial Diet ran much less how they talked or did ANYTHING, so I just wrote a quick something to get the main points across and that's all, nothing fancy. For this chapter, I really wanted to focus on Austria's and Holy Rome's relationship (because there's barely anything for them T_T). In the canon storyline, Austria really did seem to take on the role of being Holy Rome's guardian from what I saw (and I've rewatched the series three times now) and I personally feel that Holy Rome would have had a much closer, friendlier relationship with Austria (irony for HRE = Germany theory) than with either of his other brothers, Switzerland and Prussia, because Switzerland was becoming an increasingly-autonomous, isolated region of the Empire to the point where it broke away and Prussia was over in the Baltic/Slavic area of Europe trying to convert pagans to Christianity through violence (way to go Prussia) and then later becoming a Polish fief because of the Protestant Reformation.**

**Other Notes: Francis II was Austria's boss during the Napoleonic Wars and the one who declared the Austrian Empire (before Holy Rome was dissolved). He is the nephew of Marie Antoinette and a grandson of Maria Theresa. ****New France (probably _la Nouvelle France_, in French) is what Canada was first called and consisted largely of Québec initially, but by the time 1806 came around, the province of Québec was already divided into Upper and Lower Canada and wouldn't become a united province again until 1841.**

* * *

**Dissolution of Holy Rome: Austria**

It was never a good thing when the boss of the country who defeated you – soundly even – came calling. It was even more suspicious that Napoleon came with everyone_ but_ France and wanted to speak to his emperor, Francis II, without _him_, his national representation, present. Austria didn't like it one bit and he had every reason. The Treaty of Pressburg signed in December of last year had removed him from the war _and _the Third Coalition (whatever remained of it), which meant that he was now a _nominal_ French ally. He had lost Italy in December, last year, but he was a young adult, he could handle it (and he'd been moved about far more frequently in his youth anyway), but this summer, France and Napoleon had gone too far. Napoleon wanted a buffer state between him and the rest of Europe and he couldn't oppose it, but to take Liechtenstein, his own daughter, to help create it was absolutely unforgivable! Technically, it was her boss [willingly] taking her away (and against her will) but it wouldn't be happening at all if it wasn't for Napoleon.

He'd been furious when he found out (because once again he hadn't been allowed at the meeting between Napoleon and Francis II). Furious at Napoleon. Furious at France. Furious at his own emperor. Naturally, he was furious at Napoleon; he was the one proposing this separation and France too because he was the representative, but how could he? ! He of all European countries should be against the separation of children from their parent(s) as a result of war terms!

"Did New France mean so _little_ to you? ! !"

And he _really _hated his emperor for allowing them to have her. To his own immediate family, he was wonderful, but to anyone else's, he couldn't care less. His apathy towards his aunt's plight during the French Revolution was proof enough of that. But his own anger had been _nothing_ compared to Hungary's. There was no frying pan in her hands but a proper, deadly-sharp sword, when she confronted France and Austria made no move to stop her. France barely-escaped with his life that day. Liechtenstein had been beyond distressed when she was told that she would be leaving them, but she had been somewhat-consoled by the fact that she would get to see Italy again, considering that he was at France's house and she would be too, under "Napoleon's protection" with the other more-indirect German relatives that would make up the Confederation of the Rhine. They'd come and get her as soon as they could. Hungary braided her hair one last time before she had to leave.

But now Napoleon was back and even with the injuries he'd sustained that hadn't healed from Austerlitz yet, he wanted nothing more than to boot him out the front door. Nothing good ever came from his arrivals. He waited and he developed a tic in his cheek. What. were. they. doing? ! ! Why was Napoleon back again? ? ? And then he felt it. A sharp throb of pain where his heart was. Vienna? ? No it was deeper than the land; it went straight to his blood. This feeling... it was just like when Vater (1) and Mutti (2) disappeared! Someone in his blood family was gone, but who- no! No, it couldn't be! He'd been missing for nearly 160 years, yes, but how could Holy Rome be killed? ! ! But Austria knew that there were two ways to _kill _a nation. One was to destroy it entirely such as Father Germania had done to Roman Empire and the other way was to order a nation's dissolution. There were only _two_ people who could have killed Holy Rome and they were standing on the other side of that door!

The two of them came out and it took all of Austria's self control to keep quiet and remain where he stood especially when his blood, his _Germanic_ blood was screaming for vengeance against his little brother's killer. Napoleon looked smug, but that didn't mean anything and neither did Francis II's thin-lipped expression. His boss didn't even so much as _look_ at him until Napoleon was well out of the palace. Francis II finally turned to him and met his angry gaze head on with a solemn, dignified air.

"I cannot maintain the realms of the state in their present condition. As of today, the title of Holy Roman Emperor no longer exists."

Austria had no idea _how_ he kept a civil tongue when he asked, "By whose authority?" His boss? Or France's? Which one?

"By mine, _Kaiserthum Oesterreich _(3)."

It took every. single. _centimeter_. of his being to not to completely _explode_ at his... his _Emperor_. And he only just barely succeeded, for his jaw was firmly set, his hands tightly clenched at his sides, and his voice a growl of barely comprehensible words, "_You killed my little brother!_"

"I cannot be the ruler of someone who has been missing for nearly two centuries of rulers, Austria. The Holy Roman Empire never returned to its full strength after the Thirty Years' War, you should know that better than anyone living. And now the Holy Roman Empire is at its weakest and most pathetic as never before; I can only imagine how this must have degraded and ruined your little brother, if he was indeed, still alive after all this time. Consider it a mercy killing on my behalf."

Austria was speechless. Speechless in his silent fury and shock as Francis II walked away as if he _hadn't_ just effectively ordered the execution of a small child and his youngest brother!

"NOO!" he screamed and threw his fist into the wall with a solid _slam_, "NO, Holy Rome! HOLY ROOOME! !"

Austria fell to his knees and pressed his head against the wall, staring with blank amethyst eyes at nothing tangible. Holy Rome...

_**June, Year 1156**_

"_Who are you?"_

_Austria stared down at the small boy who asked the question with a curious expression. The boy looked very young and his clothes were all black and looked very nice, but his pale blue eyes and slight frown gave off an air of superiority that Austria didn't quite like. He looked like a brat. He didn't understand why his bosses, the Babenbergs, wanted him to meet this person. He knew he was by no means old, himself, but this country was even younger and probably very arrogant. Why was he so important? A smart hand suddenly cuffed him on the back of the head and he winced. He was used to this._

"_Answer the question, boy, and don't dally!" his boss, Henry II, hissed urgently._

"_I am..." he paused a moment, wondering if he should go by his simpler name or his full title. He decided upon the latter. "I am the Margraviate of Austria."_

_The smaller boy nodded slightly, "Ah, Austria. You've been living with Bavaria... Wait, Austria?" the smaller boy's eyes widened in surprise, "You're not... You're not a son of Germania, are you?"_

_Taken aback by the sudden __**loss**__ of dignity in the younger boy, Austria could only nod. "Yes, I'm his second son."_

_There was a sudden newfound look of admiration in the boy's eyes that had not been present before, but the younger boy quickly shook it off. "Right then, well, Bavaria sure has put you in a tight spot. I am here to set right the conditions between Bavaria and my house. We will decide on the conditions here and my boss, Emperor Frederick I, will call for a Diet as soon as feasibly possible after all has been decided, so let us begin."_

_His boss? His boss was Emperor Frederick I? But that... that could only mean... that he was Roman Empire Jr.? ! !_

Holy Rome...

_**September, Year 1156**_

_Austria could barely contain his excitement and nervousness with all the people in the diet around him. He had known since June when Roman Empire Jr. had formalized the _Privilegium Minus_, but today, it would be real! The full details of the document had already been read aloud to all present, including the part about women of the family being able to inherit him. Roman Empire Jr.'s boss stood up. Good Lord, it was really happening!_

"_As per the agreement of the _Privilegium Minus _signed and dated 5 June of 1156 in Regensburg, Margrave Henry Jasomirgott shall renounce his claim to the Duchy of Bavaria and shall be passed to Henry the Lion of the Welfs."_

"_I renounce Bavaria in the name of the Lord, our Father."_

"_And in exchange, with the consent of all ruling princes present and accounted for, the Margraviate of Austria shall be raised to the status of a duchy and shall be held in fief as hereditary land and given to the House of Babenberg as compensation."_

"_I support the elevation," Duke Vladislaus II declared first and Austria could see Bohemia nodding in vigorous agreement, her dark blond braids bouncing happily against her shoulders. All the other princes followed immediately afterward along the duke's lead and thus the terms of _Privilegium Minus _were official and out in the open. He was now a duchy independent of Bavaria._

_It had happened so quickly that Austria could hardly believe it! He was a duchy now! And even better, he would no longer have to live with Bavaria! He could start working at trying to be his own country now and not just be a tag-along or a servant! He was so happy that day that he felt his heart would burst into a bunch of pieces! The new Duchy of Austria made sure to thank Roman Empire and his Emperor appropriately before he left for _his _land_.

Holy Rome.

_**November, Year 1276**_

"_Austria, why are you wearing glasses? You're not going blind, are you? ! !"_

"_No, no, I can still see just fine!" Austria said hastily as he took them off and showed him. The fact that they were uncomfortable on his nose and ears gave him enough of a reason with the perfect excuse. "But... my new boss, Rudolph I, he says that I look too plain, so I have to wear these now."_

"_I don't know what your boss was trying to achieve because now you look weird."_

_Austria scowled a little. It was bad enough when Teutonic Knights taunted him for every little thing he did or didn't say or do; he didn't want to start taking that from Holy Rome too._

"_Not any weirder than you would if you took off that big hat for once," Austria retorted._

"_No, I can't!" Holy Rome shouted and grabbed the top of his hat, "My bangs would fall down on my forehead and then I'd look too pla-" he paused upon realizing what he was about to say and Austria raised an eyebrow in expectation. "Plain," Holy Rome said with a smile as he finished the sentence._

_They both laughed._

Holy Rome.

_**Year 1356**_

"_You sure have gotten powerful rather quickly!" Holy Rome told him once, admiration filling his young voice._

"_It's because of the Habsburgs," Austria explained with a slight shrug of indifference and then gave a grim smile, remembering how his friendship with his little brother, Schwyz... Eidgennosen, had completely severed when Bavaria's boss (and later Holy Rome's), Louis IV, recognized Eidgennosen's independence from the Habsburgs, his bosses. "But really, I should thank Hungary for helping out with the switch. If he hadn't gotten rid of Ottakar II, then I might have been forced to live with Bohemia again."_

"_Hungary did something good for you, then?" Holy Rome asked in surprise and disbelief. Holy Rome wasn't too fond of Hungary._

"_Yeah, he did, though I didn't know it at the time. Bohemia was **very**_ _angry and upset that Hungary killed probably her favorite boss. I didn't really like him, he caused too many problems at home for me and I much prefer the power and strength that I've acquired from serving under the Habsburgs instead. Hungary really helped me out though I don't think he meant it like this."_

"_Do you like him or something?" Holy Rome asked and he looked distinctly uncomfortable._

"_I guess you could say that. Even though he beats me up a lot, he's probably my best friend and I really admire his strength. I hope to be able to match him one day. You might even say he's my source of inspiration."_

"_Ugh, can you please stop talking about Hungary so positively?" Holy Rome asked, "It's making me feel nauseous."_

_Austria gave him a dry look, "I fail to see how **my** talking of Hungary is any different from the way **you** talk of Italy except that Italy is a girl._

_**Instantly**__, Holy Rome's face turned bright red and immediately retorted, "It just is!" in a very high-pitched voice. "But this is completely off-topic! The point I was originally trying to make was that __you're getting so powerful that your bosses may end up becoming mine one of these days. From one direct son of Germania to another, I just wanted to tell you that I would like to share bosses with you if it ever came down to that. I mean, of the rest of Germania's sons, I never even see Teutonic Knights and Eidgennosen is isolating himself more and more in the mountains with each passing year. Then there's that other boy – what was his name, Sweden? – that Vater took care of for a time, but he lives far up in the north, so I don't see him either. And working with the bosses of our relatives like Bavaria or Saxony or Swabia, it's just... those guys just aren't quite like us. Even that one little County, Luxembourg, is easier for me to work with and he's not even family."_

_Austria understood exactly what he meant. Bavaria and all those others. They were the immortal representations of their land/people/government/whatever, just like them, but at the same time, they were different and they knew neither why nor how, though Austria guessed it had something to do with their Celtic mothers, whatever it was._

Holy Rome.

_**March, Year 1452**_

"_See, I told you! I told you it would happen someday!" Holy Rome cried out jubilantly as he gazed happily up at his dark-haired older brother, "We now have the same bosses, Austria!"_

"_We sure do," Austria said as he smiled fondly down at his youngest brother and then lowered himself to his knees to meet him at eye level. "And I promise that I will do the best I can to take care of you," he added as he removed Holy Rome's hat and ruffled his hair just enough for those paternally-inherited German bangs to fall down across his forehead._

"_You've been taking care of me since long before now, bruder (4)," Holy Rome said as he took off Austria's glasses and messed up his own hair in retaliation so that Austria's bangs fell forward as well._

"_We're so plain," Austria stated with a chuckle and Holy Rome laughed too because it was so true._

Holy Rome!

_**November, Year 1527**_

"_Austria, are you alright? You look like you just saw a demon," Holy Rome asked the Archduchy seeing as how his older brother had just unexpectedly come into his room and locked the door behind him, looking very pale._

"_No... No, I'm not alright, Holy Rome... Hungary..." Holy Rome waited, wondering what Austria had to say about Hungary that had him so shaken up. "Hungary's a... a... a girl!" He squeaked out the last bit._

_Wait... "What?" Holy Rome was way too confused._

"_Just what I said! Hungary's a girl!" Austria exclaimed, "I was just going to meet up with him because he was supposed to come live in my house when his boss died except then Ottoman Empire got in the way, but then- AH! He is a she and aaaaagh!" he buried his face in his hands and slumped to the floor in utter humiliation, "My best friend and rival was a girl; how is that even possible?! Hungary was my role model for what a strong country should be and he was really a girl! By __**Vater**__, I feel like such a __fool! Somebody kill me right now!"_

_Holy Rome was going through his own mental shock at the moment, but he wasn't nearly as bad off as Austria was. "Are you... going to be alright, Austria?" he asked tentatively._

_Austria slowly shook his head, "I'm not leaving this room for the next century."_

_Holy Rome pouted upon this declaration, "Oh yes, you are; it's _my_ room. I'll let you stay in here for tonight, but after that, I'm kicking you out. You can't avoid this forever and the sooner you accept that you got your butt kicked by a girl for several hundred years, the sooner you can move on from this."_

_Austria gave a very dry laugh, "Don't play superior to me in this. She kicked your butt too, don't try and deny it."_

"_I **can** decide to kick you out of my room right now," Holy Rome reminded him sharply, his face burning with embarrassment._

Holy Rome!

_**Year 1574**_

_Ah, there he was. Sitting at the table with his face pressed against an open book and the candle wax burned down to a half-length of his smallest finger. Austria sighed with a shake of his head as he entered the room and strode over to the sleeping Empire. It was good that Holy Rome was trying to improve himself under his direction, but he was perhaps taking it a bit too far. Falling asleep during his studies like this wouldn't be effective in helping him to master the concepts. He carefully picked up his youngest brother from the chair and blew out the tiny flicker of fire on the candle before leaving the study. He carried him all the way back to the boy's bedroom and laid him down on the bed. He was still fast asleep. Austria was just removing Holy Rome's hat when he heard a knock on the open door and he looked over to see Hungary standing there with a sleeping Italy in her arms._

"_Ah, so Holy Rome passed out too, huh?" she asked with an amused smile when she saw the little one in the bed._

"_Yes, he studied himself to sleep again."_

"_He's such a diligent boy," Hungary agreed with a fond smile and then her beautiful green eyes brightened up magnificently, "Do you suppose it would be alright if he and Italy shared the bed tonight? They'd look awfully cute sleeping together."_

_Austria frowned in concern, "I'm not sure that's a good idea. Holy Rome is bound to wake up first, as always, and you know how he freaks out when he's near Italy."_

"_Yes, but I think Holy Rome would really like that," Hungary persisted eagerly, "He really does love Italy very much."_

_That was true and very obvious too. He relented. "Very well, bring Italy over," he said with a beckoning gesture to Hungary and she was by his side in an instant, laying the girl beside his brother, "But if Holy Rome is angry at you tomorrow and gives you more work, don't blame me."_

"_Oh, I don't think it will come to that," Hungary answered confidently, "But even if it does, this is well worth it."_

_When Hungary had finished with Italy, she stepped back and Austria pulled the blanket over the two sleeping children, tucking in the corners around them to prevent them from catching a chill._

"_It's almost like you're their apa (5) with how diligent you are in taking care of them. Holy Rome really respects and admires you; it's quite cute."_

"_I don't try to be," Austria defended, recognizing the Hungarian word she threw in with the German, "But they're both so little and without either Holy Rome's or Italy's birth parents around, somebody has to take care of them. I feel so overwhelmed though. I've been taking care of Holy Rome since I was young, but it doesn't make raising children any easier."_

"_Well, then why don't you let me help you?" Hungary asked, "You could be their apa and I could be their anya (6)."_

"_D-Don't say things like that!" Austria blurted out and instantly became flustered._

Holy Rome!

_**October, Year 1648**_

"_He's gone? ? What do you mean 'He's gone'? ! Where is he? ! Where's Holy Rome? ! !" Austria demanded of Ferdinand III when he got home from signing the treaties for the Peace of Westphalia._

_Because of the nature of which these particular treaties were signed, it was unlikely that any of the other countries were aware of Holy Rome's absence, but he was Holy Rome's guardian. Holy Rome _should_ have been with him, but he wasn't! Just the Holy Roman delegation without their nation representative._

"_I don't know where he is, Austria," Ferdinand III said, his patience thinning, "The last time anyone remembers seeing him was during the last battle. Nobody saw him after the battle ended or since. Now excuse me."_

_Austria immediately stepped out of the way out of habit as Ferdinand III strode past him, leaving Austria standing lost and worried. Holy Rome. Where was he? Where had he disappeared to? Where was his little brother? ! !_

"Holy Rome..." Austria cried in a broken whisper as his German blood pounded painfully through the place in his physical heart where Holy Rome's familial blood connection once flowed.

* * *

_Translations, yay!_

_(1) Vater (German) - Father (I just get the feeling that Austria wouldn't be as close to Germania as perhaps his other siblings, hence the respectful 'Vater' over the more informal 'Vati'._

_(2) Mutti (German) - Mom_

_(3) __Kaiserthum Oesterreich (German) - Austrian Empire (I read somewhere that this is the Old German variant of the name, hence my usage)._

___(4) Bruder (German) - Brother_

_(5) Apa (Hungarian) - Dad_

_(6) Anya (Hungarian) - Mom_

_From the previous chapter to this one, assume that France met up with Napoleon before he actually arrived in Vienna. Also assume that, from the previous chapter to this one, Napoleon had originally come to Vienna to order the dissolution of HRE, but (because of France's slight of hand and non-instant-kill attack) instead only ended up calling for an ultimatum and wasn't the one who actually **declared **the dissolution of Holy Rome._

_It is canon that the war that Holy Rome left to fight in after saying "goodbye" to Italy (and kissing him) was the Thirty Years' War (which actually makes sense seeing as how after that war, the Holy Roman Empire was more decentralized and lost a lot of its original power to the supporting components of the Empire._

_I have decided that Bohemia is another name for Czechia/Czech Republic which (considering that if you look at the Hungarian words for Bohemia, Czechia, and Czech, you will see the Hungarian word for 'Czech' (Cseh) in all three of them) is a pretty valid and well-supported assumption, I'd say!_

_Schwyz is the name for one of the original three cantons that composed of the Swiss Confederation and then became known as Eidgennosen (which was just the German word for "confederacy" or something like that), but eventually the entire group came to be known as Swiss/Switzerland because the Schwyz were the most dominant of the three (and then later, additional) cantons._


	3. Dissolution of Holy Rome: Prussia

**Author's Note: Bleh, I'm sick, so I'm posting this now to make me feel better (no, I did not write this when I was sick, that would be awful). Awesome Prussia's turn now. I found it VERY interesting that Prussia didn't join the Napoleonic Wars until AFTER the Holy Roman Empire was dissolved. Prussia's boss was Frederick William III, his second boss after Old Fritz.**

* * *

**Dissolution of Holy Rome: Prussia**

Something was missing. Something was gone. No, some_one_! Prussia didn't know who, but he knew this feeling all too well. This aching pain in his chest. Someone in his family was dead. It was just like when Vati (1) and Mutti (2) disappeared. They were just suddenly _gone_, even though they weren't killed, to a place where he couldn't find them. Who was dead? Who was gone now? It could only be one of his brothers, but whom? Definitely not Spazzy Switzy. He hadn't once put himself on center stage since he'd drifted away from them (and that little scrap during the French revolutionary campaigns didn't count because the battles had moved over to his land). And it probably wasn't Loser Austria either. Sure, France's boss had kicked his and Russia's collective asses at Austerlitz, but that wasn't enough to kill someone who had experienced centuries-worth of defeat (and *grumble, grumble* victory *grumble*). He probably would have heard something about it much sooner than now if it really was Austria who had kicked the bucket so to speak. But if it wasn't Switzy or Ass-tria that only left... the one brother he had never once made any attempt to ever interact with... little Holy Roman Empire... But no, that... that couldn't be...! It wasn't... Prussia was out the door in seconds, swinging his cloak over his shoulders without even informing his boss or anyone else that he was leaving. He was headed for Vienna. Austria had been Holy Rome's guardian once when the kid was still around and if he was going to get _any_ answers, he'd probably find them there. He just hated that he had to ask... _Austria_ of all people.

He did get his answers. All of them. Their youngest brother, Holy Rome, who'd been missing for 160 years, was dead. Austria's. fucking. boss. had abdicated the throne of the Holy Roman Empire and dissolved, no, _killed_ their little brother. Prussia rarely ever got _mad_. He was beyond mad now. He was a raging, inferno of Hellfire.

"YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" he was _so fucking close _to rending him to tiny shreds! "HE WAS OUR LITTLE BROTHER AND YOU JUST LET YOUR FUCKING EMPEROR KILL HIM, YOU FUCKING WIMP!"

Austria was on his feet and yelling at him just as loudly, "I DID NOT! You think I WANTED this, you fool? ! I _RAISED_ HIM FOR VATER'S (3) SAKE!"

"And a REAL fine job you did too!" he bellowed in a sarcastic ferocious growl, "Couldn't even keep track of ONE little kid and LOST him for 160 FUCKING YEARS!"

"And where the HELL were YOU all those years ago when he was still around! ? ! Playing 'Knight' and 'Servant' over at Poland's and Lithuania's house? ? ? You could have helped me watch over him so that I wouldn't have to do it alone, but YOU turned your back on him and left ME to take care of him! You wanted NOTHING to do with him and the only GOD DAMNED help I EVER received was from Hungary! And don't you DARE start blaming me for losing him when you're JUST AS GUILTY for not finding him! DID YOU EVEN SEARCH _ONCE_? ! ? !"

Austria was breathing heavily when he had finished and there were hot, angry tears gathering at the corners of his furiously-narrowed violet eyes. Prussia turned on his heel with a snarl and left Vienna in a fury. His heart felt pained and constricted like it wanted to snap or snap _something_! Safely away from any civilization in one of the German forests, he screamed a coarse, ragged, throaty scream of frustrated anger and guilt and tears spilled from his eyes. Twenty years ago, this same month, it was his Old Fritz and now it was Holy Rome. He hated August. He was the absolute portrait of fucking weakness and God he fucking knew it. That's why he was here. If he'd stayed a second longer in Vienna, he'd have lost his head and in front of Loser Austria no less. Absolutely unforgivable to show such weakness. Once all the stupid weakling tears were finally gone, Prussia stood up from where he had knelt down on the forest floor and with hard, vengeful blood-red eyes, he glared west where he knew France was. France was the one who killed his little brother. Holy Roman Empire would be avenged.

When he returned, he immediately sought out his boss, Frederick William III. He hadn't fought in a war since the failed French revolutionary campaigns under Frederick William II and what a rude awakening that had been! He had idly (unwillingly) sat by while Napoleon had traipsed through Europe and conquered whatever land he damn-well pleased. He had been pissed off in July when Napoleon had created the Confederation of Rhine. He was interfering with German land that was now (willingly) supporting Napoleon against the rest of the German lands. That had rankled deeply, but now this... this was personal! This was his immediate family that France was fucking around with!

He located his king and marched straight towards him. He didn't care that he looked murderous. "The Confederation of the Rhine has killed Holy Roman Empire and has pledged support to Napoleon. They are his allies and his power is increasing with the increased amount of territory that he successfully-conquers. If we do not act _now_, then we will end up more or less the same. I'm sick of sitting around here remaining neutral. It's weak and un-awesome. Well, I'm done with it! _I'm_ going to take down France whether I have your approval or not!"

They were not Old Fritz. They would never _be_ Old Fritz. But he was still Prussia and though he was not as powerful and awesome as when Old Fritz had been his boss (the battles fought under Frederick William II were proof enough of that), he could still hold his own and kick ass. He could not have lost so much of his strength within the short twenty years since Old Fritz had gone. Prussia was completely confident that he could give France a run for his money.

Oh, how very wrong he was.

Prussia, along with the surprisingly-awesome woman that was Frederick William III's wife, Louise, finally convinced the man to join the Fourth Coalition with Russia, Sweden, Britain, and one of his relatives, Saxony, against Napoleon. In October, Prussia sprung into action against the French forces. October. Prussia had long-understood and accepted (unwillingly and with much depression) that he would never have those wonderful, golden years with Old Fritz again, but he still expected that he could pull off a Prussian victory; his bosses were still the Hohenzollerns after all. Battle of Jena and Auerstedt.

He was completely slaughtered. He was shocked, humiliated, and in total disbelief. How? How had he become so... so _weak_ in such a short amount of time? ? It was only twenty fucking years! ! !

"In all fairness, Prussia, we've been waiting for you to make a move since Russia's refusal to accept the peace terms of the Third Coalition," France said with an apologetic shrug to the captive country.

Prussia growled, but couldn't do much more, even if he wasn't trussed up like a turkey. At least his bosses weren't captured too. That would only make this even more humiliating, but he hoped they would get away from Berlin. He was sure that's where Napoleon was heading next. He had no army, or at least, it certainly wasn't something he was proud of, so he couldn't protect them. Their best hope was to leave him and his heart behind and save themselves. He didn't like it, it wasn't awesome at all, but it wasn't cowardly either. This was a 'tactical retreat'.

()()()()()()()()()

Prussia was finally released from French capture nine months later as a result of the Treaty of Tilsit, but it was hardly freedom. Even with the efforts of his queen, who he was coming to adore and admire more than he had ever thought possible towards a woman (and she wasn't even Prussian), who had come from the very east of his land, his old motherland, just to save him and attempt to salvage his honor in this shameful treaty, he lost half his territory to France and Poland (with some going to Russia also), had a huge war indemnity, and was now forced to serve France or else. His hands were practically tied from 1807 onward until 1813 when he got his chance.

He hated Russia, but they both agreed in that neither of them wanted to be France's ally in this war and were extremely pissed off that they were forced to be as a result of the Treaties of Tilsit. The only thing that pissed him off more was that Russia got the chance to strike back first when France actually tried to invade Russia in winter. The resulting chaos of that failed campaign was exactly what Prussia had been waiting for to break France's leash on him to get him back for the humiliation he'd suffered in the Treaty of Tilsit and to fulfill his original goal of avenging Holy Rome's death. Prussia and his people had gotten their acts together since that awful memory that was the Battle of Jena and was _much _stronger and more organized than he had been as a result of all the reforms he had undergone. And Queen Louise, bless her soul, that wonderful awesome woman, had been such an unconquerable foundation of support to lift his spirits up out of the depression that had threatened to overwhelm him many times (all of Old Fritz's hard work for naught) right up until her last breath. Thanks to her efforts (Louise equals revenge!) and his peoples' indomitable recovery, he was ready. _Now_ he was awesome again!

He was not the only one reneging against France's tight military control either! By 1813, Sweden, Austria, and himself had slipped out of France's grasp and joined Russia, Britain, Spain, and his older brother, Portugal, to give France a well-deserved ass-kicking. They were all out for blood, for one reason or another, and didn't stop until they had Paris, France's heart, and forced Napoleon's abdication. They had won and the Battle of Nations at Leipzig had been awesome, but it wasn't quite the victory that Prussia had been hoping for. It satisfied _him _and his desire to overcome his humiliation and avenge his beloved Queen, but it wasn't enough of a strike to honor Holy Rome. He almost wanted Napoleon to come back so that he could punish him and France properly for murdering his youngest brother. The details of the wars still weren't finalized. He was gonna have to meet up with everyone else in Vienna so that they could undo all the damage that Napoleon had done and redraw the fucking map again. Of course _he_ would be redrawing the map because he was so awesome!

But first, he wanted to go back home and be back in his beautiful Prussian territory before he had to deal with those other losers to get the rest of his land back. He was passing through the forests of Thuringia, the name for Vati's heart when he had still lived. It was so tranquil and serene that he wondered how such a place could have possibly been _Vati's _heart, of all people. He did not expect to run into anyone; people didn't usually venture into the deep forests alone, and he was shocked when he did. It was a young lad, probably about thirteen years old and he looked pretty beaten-up. There was a broken sword next to him and Prussia wondered if the the kid was dead. Just as he decided to run up and poke him in the forehead to check, he brought himself up short and stared down at him in a kind of fascinated horror. This feeling he had in his heart... the place where Holy Rome had been was filled up! He hadn't noticed it before! But that could only mean that someone had taken over the land that Holy Rome had once represented and that spot could only be filled so... _completely_ by a direct blood relative of his, a son of Germania because he was his mother's only child. Was it...? Was it this boy? It had to be! This kid _must_ be his new youngest brother! But that was only possible if Vati was still around... The eight-year-old boy within him that hadn't ever stopped searching wanted to rush off and try to find his long-gone father, but he didn't. It was stupid and would get him nowhere. Germania had disappeared a long time ago.

This kid was his youngest brother... his _new_ youngest brother and he looked like he was in poor condition. Kneeling down beside him, Prussia saw that he was breathing well and though he looked incredibly beaten-up and had several bruises, he didn't appear to have any severe injuries (though he did suspiciously wonder why there was a broken half of a French sword stained with blood next to him). Prussia could only come to one conclusion about his little brother's condition... He was sleeping. Prussia had absolutely no qualms about poking his cheek to wake him up.

The blond lad gave an annoyed grunt and half-glared at Prussia for disturbing him. "Who are you? What do you want?" he grumbled.

Prussia was speechless. He spoke German, not any particular dialect of it either, which gave credence to his guess that this boy was also Vati's son, but that wasn't what took away his voice. The hair was an incredibly pale, bleached blond and his eyes were a cool, almost-icy light blue. He looked... _just _like a younger Vati! This was absolute PROOF that this boy was his youngest brother! Then a thought struck him. Wasn't Holy Rome blond-haired and blue-eyed too? He was almost sure of that, but it had been so long ago that he couldn't remember the shades on top of the fact that he hadn't cared to remember them back then. He regretted that now. But maybe... just maybe what if this boy really was Holy Rome somehow, but grown-up a little?

"I'm the Awesome Prussia, your big brother, and I wanted to make sure that you weren't dead!" Prussia answered in response to the lad's question, "So what's your name, kid?"

"Um... I'm..." the boy scrunched up his eyebrows and put a hand to his forehead in intense concentration, "I'm not quite sure, but I think... I think I'm Confederation of the Rhine? I'm sorry, Prussia, I can't really remember all that well."

"Ah, I see. Well, that's okay, nobody cares if you remember unimportant stuff like that anyway!" Prussia exclaimed enthusiastically.

So this boy was the unknown representation of the Confederation of the Rhine, or what was left of it. It was an absolute mess right now and probably wouldn't last as it was when he was done in Vienna. It was completely understandable that he wasn't sure if it was his name or not considering his dubious origins. But it answered the main question he had in his mind. Confederation of the Rhine couldn't be Holy Roman Empire. Holy Rome was killed in August and Confederation of the Rhine here must have been born a month or two before that when it was created. It was kinda odd though that there was a representation of that confederation considering how it was created by a bunch of already-existing German relative representations like that condescending asshole, Bavaria, and Saxony and Hesse and whoever else hadn't been killed off by France in his creation of the Confederation of the Rhine. It got him thinking though... Perhaps he wasn't really so much the Confederation of the Rhine itself, but a sample of the conglomeration of German people living as a part of the Confederation. It would certainly explain why he had no regional dialect. He wanted to take this kid home with him. If he wasn't careful, he would lose yet another little brother at the Congress of Vienna if they got rid of the Confederation of the Rhine and didn't replace it with something else. Staring at the bored-looking Confederation of the Rhine, it was hard for him to stop thinking about how he looked _soo_ much like Vati! Then Prussia suddenly grinned as an idea came to him. He knew exactly how he was going to save Confederation of the Rhine's life while still appeasing the other victors, himself included.

"Right then! From now on, you're going to live with me, little brother, and you will be known as German Confederation when I come back from my boring-ass meeting with all the other loser countries in Vienna to fix up what stupid France messed up! But _I_ will call you 'West' because you are to the west of me and I'm awesome!"

"Right... Then... then I guess I'll call you 'big brother' then, right?" Confederation of the Rhine asked with a wistful look very much like one seeking approval for something.

"Aww, don't be so formal, West! Just 'bruder' (4) will work fine for me! Or you could call me 'Awesome-Big-Brother Prussia'! ! !

Confederation of the Rhine flat-lined and punched his newly-discovered older brother in the stomach and Prussia made such a dramatic fuss over it that Confederation of the Rhine couldn't help but giggle. Prussia smiled warmly when he heard his baby brother's laughter. Holy Rome was gone forever, but maybe he had been given a second chance to start over with the upbringing of a little brother. He would not abandon Confederation of the Rhine like he did Holy Roman Empire, nope! He would make sure that Confederation of the Rhine had all the skills and resources to deal with the world on center stage and not have to struggle to make himself known like _he_ did (having to work for Poland _sucked!_). He promised himself that he would do things right this time and so he was in a relatively good mood when he arrived for the Congress of Vienna with all the other map-drawers.

* * *

_Yay, not many weird translations for once! :D Don't worry Prussia, you'll get to properly kick Napo__leon's ass for Holy Rome when he comes back from Elba! :)_

_(1) Vati - Dad (I always imagine that Prussia would have a closer relationship with Germania than Austria, for example)_

_(2) Mutti - Mom (lol, **Prussia** is certainly not going to call his mom "Mutter" :P)_

_(3) Vater - Father_

_(4) Bruder - Brother_

_Just to clarify, Holy Rome never became Confederation of the Rhine like he thinks. He _has_ been living off the general German population, as Prussia suspects, to heal and survive as much as he has (and he's grown-up a little because of the consolidation of German states and the beginnings of the creation of a unified German identity). The reason why his hair color is slightly different from the first chapter to this one is because of one thing: puberty. Puberty can change hair color, it did for me. My hair used to be a really light brown when I was younger and now it is solid brown. Same with my brother except that his hair went from regular brown to dark brown-nearly black._

_I just came up with Spazzy Switzy because it's an alliteration and I can totally imagine Prussia calling him that to tease him (and then running away because Switzy pulls out his guns and starts going ballistic. lol, just think of how ballistic he'd go if Prussia reminded him of the times when he used to wear the Swiss Guard uniforms! :P)_

_I don't think Austria would really curse all that much, but he might curse more when he's around Prussia than otherwise. This legit happens, my own dad has four older brothers and whenever he's around any of them, he curses a whole lot more than when he's not._

_I really wanted to emphasize the fact that it was only twenty years ago from Jena that Old Fritz died because Otto von Bismarck actually makes a reference to this. Bismarck warned Willhelm II (the last German Emperor) in December 1897 of the eventual collapse for his exact words were "Jena came twenty years after the death of Frederick the Great; the crash will come twenty years after my departure if things go on like this" and he predicted accurately too! O.O_

_The references I made to Poland (and Lithuania) are because Prussia was a fief of Poland (later the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth) from 1525 to early 1656 by first becoming a fief to Sweden and then obtaining full sovereignty later that year (which was recognized by Poland the following year thus ending Prussia's tenure of servitude for good). He did come under the Brandenburgs before the Thirty Years' War, but just barely, and was probably a whole lot more concerned in freeing himself from Polish servitude (lol, Prussia as a servant XP) and getting stronger again than actually meeting Holy Rome (Hell, he benefitted from the Thirty Years' War!)_

_Portugal still does not have an official character design much less a gender, so I chose a male Portugal for a couple reasons and many of them based upon my interactions with a Portugese man here on FF, actually. In talking with this person, I learned that he got very mad whenever somebody mistook either his language as Spanish or thought that Portugal was just a Spanish province (like **really **mad, it was a little scary!) So based on that, I'd imagine that Portugal would look very similar to Spain to the point where people would mistake HIM for Spain (kinda like how people mistake Canada for America) and I think it would be VERY difficult to mistake Portugal (if a female) for Spain (even though I do want more female countries). It... also doesn't help that an awesome artist on DeviantART and tumblr by the name **ctcsherry** designed an AMAZING male!Portuglal (and created a great personality for him too!) that I just spazz over every time I read the Age of Discovery comic strip that she made!_

_**(Warning: Historical Figure Promotional Spiel)  
**If there was a woman that Prussia loved with the same fierce devotion and loyalty that he loved Old Fritz, it would probably be Queen Loise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Frederick Willaim III's wife. She was not Prussian, but she certainly loved Prussia, and she was fondly remembered over 100 years later well into the mid-20th century and probably longer._

_It is written that Louise was "Prussian nationalism personified" and she was a woman strong of heart during a low, depressing point in Prussian history (as a result of the French occupation) which raised the spirit and morale of not only her husband, but the Prussian people as well. While the terms for the Prussian half of the Treaty of Tilsit were being arranged, Louise agreed to come (by her husband's summoning) to beg for less-damning results for Prussia, and she agreed, but only to "save her Prussia" (hence why I decided that Prussia should be captured by France until the terms were set) and she had been advising him to accept no shameful peace for Prussia should still maintain his honor._

_Louise had requested a private interview with Napoleon and threw herself at his feet to beg favorably for Prussia and though she'd failed and he'd tried to destroy her reputation by suggestions of infidelity, he failed and only immortalized the love and admiration that the Prussians already had for their queen (and the epression "Louise equals revenge" was a pretty common one in the wars between 1813 - 1815 against the French). Louise was so important to her husband and the Prussians, that after she died (she died young, only 34), Frederick Willaim III established the Order of Louise on the anniversary of her birthday as a female counterpart to the Iron Cross. Man, I could go on and on about this woman and how awesome she is. I love her as much as I love Maria Theresa of Austria and both were AMAZING women in their own ways! :)_


	4. Germany

**Author's Note: I have had a _very _stressful day (week!) so that's why I'm uploading this (that and it took me only two days to write it). Probably the shortest chapter I've written for this story so far! And yay! We're finally away from Napoleonic Europe! Enter Germany to the world stage! ! !**

* * *

**Germany**

"I now present the youngest brother of yours truly, the Awesome Prussia, Germany!" Prussia declared boldly to all present in the Hall of Mirrors of France's Versailles Palace. "Raised by the Awesome me, his is a crown _not_ dragged out of the gutter!" Prussia added proudly, more to his boss than to anyone else.

The doors to the Hall opened and a young man dressed in a ceremonial German soldier's uniform entered the room with a crown clasped gently in his hands. He was _tall_! Not quite as tall as Russia, from what France could judge, but obviously taller than Prussia by nearly a head and so _very_ robust and broad, a physique of which only Sweden or America (possibly Russia, but it was hard to say with those long, thick coats he wore) could match! He would have deceived himself about the young man's age were it not for his face. His face _looked_ young and thin and he walked with an awkward shyness that only confident adulthood could train out of adolescence. He'd put the lad's age at around... seventeen years or so. This was Germany, or so Prussia had introduced him as...

The young Germany strode straight to where Prussia's king stood beside the albino nation, who, France noted, was grinning with undisguised pride in his red eyes. Germany knelt before William I, the crown held out to the monarch. "By the Grace of God, I implore thee to accept the crown of the German realm, mein Kaiser (1)."

In April of 1849, William I's older brother, Frederick William IV (both sons of Frederick William III who had reigned during the Napoleonic Wars) had been offered the very same crown and it had been refused. _This_ time, with _this_ monarch, it was accepted. The German Empire was now officially proclaimed and Prussia immediately abandoned dignity to go tackle the young Germany. This was perhaps a crowning moment for the German people, but c'était une grande insulte (2) to France, especially here, in Versailles's prized and treasured Galerie des Glaces (3), a personal addition by King Louis XIV. Prussia thought he was so très malin (4), choosing this room, the pride of the former French monarchy, for the coronation of the German Emperor and the début of this new upstart German nation, but he would get back at him for this someday. Both of them. January 18, 1871. He wouldn't forget this insult for a _long_ time.

But there would be time enough for that later. He was too weak (and certainly not stupid enough) to try something while Germany and Prussia were at the height of their power. Napoleon III just wasn't the same kind of man his uncle was not to mention the fact that his _Third_ Republic was still pretty new. Instead, he focused on the younger of the two Germans (who he didn't really know anything about because this was his first time seeing him), who looked mildly annoyed as he attempted to pull Prussia off of him. Ce jeune homme… cette Allemagne… (5) was he the new youngest brother, German Confederation, that Prussia and Austria had been keeping hidden away from the other countries until now? He had to be! He couldn't possibly be anyone else.

He looked like someone, France was sure of it. Someone that he had known a long tie ago, back when he was still a young nation. Bon Dieu (6), that was a thousand years ago! But his _belle adolescence_ (7) aside, there was something about Germany that just looked familiar. Something in the hair and the hair and the eyes that reminded him of someone...

"Bruder (8), knock it off already, or I'll hit you!" Germany said loudly with an irritated scowl.

Germania!

"Aw, come on, don't be like that, West! I'm only your best older brother in the whole world and today you've become as awesome as me! My baby brother's now an empire, I'm allowed to be happy and annoy the crap out of you for your own equal awesomeness!"

It was so obvious!

"You know, you're not my _only_ older brother," Germany put in.

"But I _am_ the most awesome one!" Prussia added with a cheeky grin.

_That_ was why Germany looked so familiar! He looked just like Germania! Dieu, that was even further back in his history then he'd thought! He'd known Germania back in his_ petite enfance _(9)! Even when Wisabada was East Francia and he was still Ouest (10)! Sa pauvre sœur (11). But this new German brother, this Germany, he was like Germania reincarnated! The slick, pale blond hair and the light blue eyes even down to the deep, gruff voice and characteristic frown; they were all Germania! Germany even had a similar name. The latter was probably planned, but the others things weren't so easily changed. He remembered Germania and not only his reputation, all of which he heard from his papa, but also his incredible strength. He wondered, and he worried, just how strong this new country would prove to be and if his strength would match anywhere close to his sire's.

()()()()()()()()()()

In the many thoughts that France had that day, it did not once cross his mind that Germany even slightly resembled the deceased Holy Roman Empire, his sister's son. It was too long since he'd stabbed him for the Latin country to even make the giant leap to such a connection. Countries don't last long after they've been dissolved if they don't have a population of people to carry them along until they can claim a new name and continue living.

()()()()()()()()()()

For many decades, France only saw Germany as the physical reincarnation of Germay and an increasingly-powerful threat in Europe. Not only was he a big country, but he had a strong military influence, no doubt thanks to his older brother, Prussia, and was a supremely-efficient power that no longer had the weakness of being a conglomerate of over 500 (or some other extremely huge and ridiculous number) German states thanks to the ever-growing unified nationalism of the German people that had sadly been aided by his own conquest of Europe through Napoleon within the same century when he'd begun the consolidation of the fragmented German states into the Confederation of the Rhine. Tensions had become so high in Europe that France had signed a defensive pact with fuzzy sourcils (12) Britain and creepy Russia just in case Germany or Prussia got any... funny ideas towards the idea of trying to conquer Europe which, at their current strength, would not be that difficult if the other countries were caught off-guard and were unprepared.

Then the Great War came...

It was not the longest war that Europe, or even France, had seen. Not by a long shot, and yet it was probably one of the greatest catastrophes that the world, especially Europe, had ever taken part in. When it was finally over, France, having just spent nearly four years straight in the trenches and being in a particularly vindictive mood as a result of the war, was only _too_ happy to suggest that the peace conference take place at his house in the Gallerie des Glaces du Château de Versailles (13) on January 18, 1919. He was completely justified in his own mind that it was only fitting and proper that Germany's power be broken in the very same room where it had started exactly 48 years ago.

* * *

_Aaaand once again, because I wrote France, I have a bunch of translations to write (I fail)._

_(1) mein Kaiser (German) - my Emperor_

_(2) c'était une grande insulte (French) - this was a huge insult_

_(3) Gallerie des Glaces (French) - Hall of Mirrors (one of the most famous rooms of Versailles and a personal addition by King Louis XIV, who was one of the very few French monarchs [if not the only one] who ever had true absolute power over everything, including the nobles. The fact that the Germans used that room to crown William I **really **stung deeply-embedded French pride)._

_(4) très malin (French) - very clever_

_(5) Ce jeune homme… cette Allemagne… (French) - This young man... this Germany... (yes, in French, Germany is a feminine word, just like with most countries)._

_(6) Bon Dieu (French) - Good God_

_(7) __belle adolescence (French) - beautiful adolescence (lol, adolescence is just pronounced a little different in French, but it's spelled exactly the same)._

_(8) Bruder (German) - brother_

_(9) petite enfance (French) - early childhood_

_(10) Ouest (French) - West_

_(11) Sa pauvre sœur (French) - His (or her) poor sister_

_(12) sourcils (French) - eyebrows_

_(13) Gallerie des Glaces du Château de Versailles (French) - Hall of Mirrors of the Versailles Palace (yes, the French DID purposefully hold the peace conference in the very same room of the exact anniversary when William I was crowned German Emperor._

_Once again, I have no idea how a coronation ceremony goes, much less how THAT one went, so I just picked something to get the point and flew with it._

_Frederick Willaim IV's exact words regarding the (very ineffective) Frankfurt Parliament offering him the crown of Germany on April 3, 1849 (in their attempt to try and get some power back after the German uprisings of 1848 and their resulting failness) was that he would never accept "a crown from the gutter", which is what Prussia was referring back to in the very first paragraph when speaking to William I._

_I don't think there's really much else to add that I didn't already explain. Napoleon III was Napoleon I's nephew and he was the Emperor of the Second French Empire which had replaced the Second French Republic (lol, France was on a trend for a while there: Monarchy - Revolution - Republic - Empire - (Constitutional) Monarchy - Revolution (x2) - Republic - Empire) right in the middle of the Franco-Prussian War after news of the French surrender at the Battle of Sedan reached Paris on September 4, 1870._


	5. Recovering Holy Rome

**Recovering Holy Rome**

"Bonjour l'Allemagne! (1)" France called out jovially to the youngest German country from the front door of his house.

"Guten Tag, Frankreich (2)," Germany replied indifferently, "What do you want?"

They had come so far from where they had started in the beginning of the 20th century. To think that just a short fifty years ago in 1942, Europe had become embroiled in la Deuxième Guerre Mondiale (3) and he'd been left with nothing but his Vichy government during Nazi Germany's occupation. France wouldn't have believed that he'd ever become, well... friends, he supposed, with the German nations, especially not after he lost his only blood connection to the Germanic nations. And Europe was finally calming down now that the Soviet Union had broken up and the Cold War between Russia and America was now officially over. Ahh, 1991. And France had thought 1989 was a good year to celebrate!

"Moi? Ah, tu me blesses! (4) I just wanted to stop by and greet my favorite Germanic nation, is that too much to ask?" France cried out dramatically.

"Yes, it is," Germany said sternly, "I have too much to do and I still need to figure out how to help Prussia recover from his long-term cold. I haven't been able to do much to improve his condition since our reunion in 1989, and it's bothersome, so I'm not really in the mood for entertaining any guests today."

"Oh, Germany, you're so busy! You need to take a vacation every now and then or else you'll just work yourself ragged! I'm actually surprised that neither Prussia nor Italy seem to be here today," France suddenly noted when he realized that the house was _quiet_!

"Prussia decided to travel through my land to revisit the places he hasn't seen in forty years and familiarize himself with any changes and all changes that I've sustained since that time," Germany explained patiently as he finished sorting the papers he was holding into three file folders, "And Italy said that he was going to visit his 'sorella' (5) today, so that's where he is."

"His 'sorella'?" France questioned, "Italy, Romano, and San Marino don't have _another_ lost micronation sibling, do they?"

"No, not a blood sibling," Germany corrected, "He was heading south from my house when he left, but I don't know if he was going to start heading west, east, or continue straight south, though I honestly think he meant Hungary since he did live with Austria for a long time and Hungary lived in his house too and I really doubt he would have any reason to call Czechia his sister."

"Ah-ah, l'Allemagne, you're forgetting that Liechtenstein was born while Italy was still living at Austria's house. I always thought he saw Hungary more as a mother than a sister. À mon avis, l'Italie pense que la fille mignonne de l'Autriche et l'Hongrie est sa petite sœur." (6)

"Liechtenstein?" Germany said, having almost entirely forgotten about his niece, his Little Sister, "I didn't realize that she and Italy were that close."

"Oui, she was born as _such_ a tiny principality within the territory of Holy Roman Empire, that it's really a miracle that she survived to full nationhood and is very stable, but Switzerland has always been a solid rock," France said with a wistful sigh as he first remembered the day he arrived to see the result of two impossible concepts: Austria having sexual intercourse, period, and Hungary being first pregnant and then a mother; and then remembered all those years that Switzerland had stood by and protected him, even going so far as to wear the ridiculously-colored uniform of the Swiss Guards.

"Holy Rome..." Germany muttered, "I never met him, or if I did, I was too young to remember. He was my fourth oldest brother. Prussia said you killed him, is that true?"

France flinched at the German's words, but there was no heat or anger in them. It was simply a question, nothing more. "Oui, c'est vrai (7), but I wish it weren't so. I'm the last country alive who saw him and it was during the Napoleonic Era. _Comment terrible _(8). Holy Rome had been missing for nearly 160 years since the end of the Thirty Years' War and the first thing I did when I found him was stab him."

"I see..." Germany said quietly, looking thoughtful and then suddenly looked alarmed! "Ah! This is distracting me! Get out of my house! I, unlike you, can't afford to have numerous extended vacations or a ridiculous number of strikes for no reason!"

"Oh, but that's not fair!" France protested, "You really _are _going to work yourself to death with _that _kind of mentality! Nous sommes des bons amis, non? (9) Let me help you with some of your work and take a load off things! Big Brother France won't leave until you doooo!" he added in sing-song.

Germany gave a heavy sigh. "Fine, so long as it will finally get you out of my house. Sort out through all that trash and debris over there. It's all from Prussia's old house and I sorted them by the state that I found them in so that I could discard what wasn't necessary or reusable based upon the region's needs, but I haven't gotten around to actually sorting through the items yet."

Germany opened up one of the drawers in his desk and produced a clipboard with many papers stapled together. It was written in German. Thankfully, their long friendship, his reacquisition of the Alsace-Lorraine region, and the significant jump in a German-speaking populace in his land made reading German very easy. He had learned it some centuries ago and practiced it off and on with the times. Certainly if it was still the beginning of the century, he'd have been unable (and most unwilling) to speak or read a single word of that throaty language.

"Here's a clipboard with all the statistics on the individual states and you've been a country and a republic long enough that I don't need to tell you what's trash and what's useful," Germany explained, "My last rule: be thorough or leave. There's no point in trying to help me otherwise because I'd end up doing it all over myself and you'd have wasted precious time and energy."

"Ah... l'Allemagne est très stricte," (10) France said quietly but he headed over to the next room over to carry out his newly-assigned chore.

This wasn't official country business, this was just him and his Bonnefoy self helping out his new ally and sorta friend. He didn't know if he and Germany would ever be able to completely overcome their past grievances, but they could at least tolerate each other and get things done. It was probably the closest they would ever get to being friends. It was nice having a friend in Central Europe. And to think that there was a time when he was terrified at the fact that he was completely surrounded by Habsburg territories and had been forced to form an alliance with the Ottoman Empire as a result. What an embarrassing alliance for his zealously Catholic self back then.

France didn't quite realize what he'd signed himself up for until he flicked the lights on and saw just how deep the storage room was as well as how much _stuff_ was in it! All the items that he was familiar with being present in a well-running country were either barely present or completely non-existent! The economics, politics, government, communal regulations, health-related effects, exportation and importation, infrastructure, population, education, employment, all of it was so much worse off than even what he had believed from his place on the western side of the Iron Curtain! East Germany was in a _really_ bad place for forty straight years! It was no wonder that Germany was working so much and still had so much to do to bring the East German standard of living up to par. He was glad he hadn't asked for more work. He was overwhelmed by the sheer _volume_ of work he'd been assigned in this one task alone! Well, might as well start with the closest and smallest pile. That would be Thuringia. A state in southwestern East Germany right in the center of Germany if he remembered correctly. He remembered the Thuringian Forest better than the actual state. He could never forget that forest. He could never forget the site of Holy Rome's demise.

France tackled the pile with much gusto and fervor seemingly much more suited to Germany's character than France's. Other countries may think he was lazy with all his strikes and what-not, but in reality, he worked as hard and as serious as Germany did. It was really amazing how similar they were at their cores, almost like family. France put it down to the German peoples' descendence from the times of the Frankish Empire since Germany, himself, was not a direct blood relative. He was only connected to France by blood (and indirectly at that) through Holy Rome. Even though he had only been focusing on one small state, it still took France several _hours_ to sort everything out into the two piles of useful and non-useful stuff. He had just about reached the bottom when he saw something rather odd near the bottom of the Thuringia pile.

Frowning, France stuck his hand down and withdrew a short, beaten-up, and _old_ push broom! It was _really_ old, like the oldest thing in the entire pile! The bristles were made of horse hair and the handle was only rounded and smooth as a result of extensive use because he could make out the places where the wood grains had been rubbed away. The wood itself was very dry and it was so old, it had no smell that even _his_ sensitive nose could detect and no varnish seemed to coat its exterior. How did Germany get this push broom; this broom was over 500 years old and _way_ before Germany was even born! And why was it taken out of actual Thuringia and put into the Thuringia pile here? Surely a push broom was not that important, even if it _was _500 years old? Or did Germany have some secret enjoyment in archaic, nearly-archeological objects? Did Germany even _realize _just how old this broom was? Bon Dieu (11), he had too many questions and he didn't know what to do with the broom at all? He was just going to ask Germany what he wanted and would be done with it.

"Deutschland!" (12) France called out in Germany's language. He didn't like using it, it was inelegant and involved far too much grating on his throat. It was no wonder Germans always sounded like they were angry when they talked, "I found something odd in Thuringia and I don't know how to classify it!"

"Good grief, is this going to be a regular thing with you, because you can just leave if you're going to interrupt me and call me back here from work every time you-"

"Oh Germany, calmez-vous (13), it's just this one thing," France said patiently and held out the push-broom. "I found _this_ in the Thuringia pile. I personally would have thrown it away except that I'm confused as to why you brought it all the way here to Berlin instead of just leaving it in Thuringia, so I wanted a peak into that clockwork mind of yours to get what you were thinking when you picked up this push broom. Do you even know the age of ce balai-brosse? Il a plus de 500 ans!" (14)

"No way! It's _that_ old?!" Germany exclaimed and stared at the push broom with newfound admiration, "I realized that it was and old artifact, but not _that_ old! Amazing! And it's survived intact all this time..." Germany's guard was down, for a small rare smile slipped onto his ever-stern face.

"Does Germany have some secret interest in old things?" France asked with a sly smile at the young German.

The smile disappeared from Germany's face and he looked abashed, "Oh no, not me! I have no such hobby. I was just interested in it because I saw the broom was my older brother's."

France's face contorted into one of confusion. One of his brothers had owned a broom and labeled it as such? "Which one? Prussia?"

"No, Holy Rome."

Instantly, France's blue eyes widened in shock and horror. "H-Holy Rome! How do you know that? ! !"

"His initials are written right here at the base of the push broom," Germany explained as he pointed to a small carving where the handle met the base.

France ripped the broom out of Germany's hands and peered intently at the place that Germany had pointed to. There on the handle, carved out in straight rigid marks, likely from the work of an inexperienced hand using a knife for something so small, was a heart depicted in straight lines with the initials "IRS + NI" carved within the boundary. It was so tiny and rough and hard to read that he had missed it the first time he had examined the broom. Saint Rome. Pauvre, _pauvre_ Saint Rome! Son neveu mignon! Il l'avait tué! (15) France dissembled, bringing the cross-section of the broom to his eyes and he cried, not caring that he was standing right in front of Germany. The grief and the guilt had never completely gone away. He didn't even realize how impressive it was that Germany had recognized Holy Rome's initials in their Latin form.

"Où?" France finally asked when he'd calmed down enough to talk and he looked Germany (who stood awkwardly before him) in the eyes, "Ce balai-brosse... Où l'avez-vous trouvé?" (16) He couldn't speak German at the moment. He couldn't understand anything beyond his own borders.

"I found it in the Thuringian Forest," Germany explained, still looking uncomfortable (having France of all people break down into tears in front of him was definitely _not_ something he wanted to experience again). "It's actually kind of interesting, because I found it very close to the spot where Prussia found me when I started my life under my new name as the German Confederation."

France froze. Everything froze. Even time stopped. The Thuringian Forest was where he had killed Holy Rome. Prussia had supposedly found Germany in that exact same forest. This broom that was so clearly and unmistakably Holy Rome's had _also_ been in the same approximate location as young Germany. There was almost... too much found in that forest to have been coincidence. There was a seven year time difference between the death of Holy Rome and the birth of the German Confederation, but... from the way Germany told it, he wasn't born in 1813, he was found already somewhat grown by Prussia.

France turned his blue eyes on Germany and stared at him. He stared at him with intense scrutiny like he'd never seen him before in his life or this clearly until now. He had never considered the idea before. It had never even crossed his mind to compare Germany to his Little Brother. Their hair was two different shades of blond, Holy Rome's being darker like his mother's and grandmother's, but puberty could have lightened his hair to match his father's hair color. Their eyes were the same color, but Holy Rome's eyes had never looked so strict, solid, and serious. That was all France had seen during that January of 1871 when he got his first look at the new Germanic nation. That was all he had wanted to see. But since then, he had seen other expressions in those pale blue eyes. He'd seen Germany exhausted, embarrassed, and awkward in his shyness towards Italy, none of which Germania had ever shown from what he remembered of the père des Allemands (17).

And that smile. Germany didn't smile often in his company, but he had been lucky enough to catch him at it a few more times before today. Germania couldn't ever smile. Not without looking scary anyway, but Germany didn't have that problem. When he _did_ smile, it was natural, smooth, and always genuine. He did not get that from his stone-faced father, much as he looked like him. He had gotten it from Wisabada. It was his mother's smile, the la Bonne Foi blood in his veins, that shone on his face when he graced someone with his sweet smile.

"Holy Rome..." he breathed as he smiled at his little sister's grown-up son and tears began to well up in his eyes. Now that he saw it, he couldn't believe that he didn't realize it before and yet, at the same time, he knew why. Bon Dieu, he was so blind!

"Er, yes? What about Holy Rome?" Germany asked. France was crying again. He was really starting to freak out, this was too weird for him!

All this time, after all that pain and grief that he'd suffered through, and the boy had been hiding in plain sight the entire time for nearly 200 years. And after all that they had put each other through in the current century. He had regretted the heavy war reparations at the end of World War I for so many decades now (though it had seemed like a good idea at the time) and now he had yet another reason to regret it. He had partially-caused Germany's fall to fascist rulers that had resulted in World War II and the worst genocide any of them could remember in a long time (if not the _only _time). His sister's son had gone through so much and part of it was his fault.

"Rien (18) ... It's nothing, really," France said as he looked away, still smiling with the knowledge of this important secret, "I just had this thought that he would probably look a lot like you if I- … if he'd grown up."

He couldn't tell him. Holy Rome was not dead, the proof was standing both in front of him and in his own hands, but the Holy Roman Empire had ceased to exist. Germany would never accept a familial blood connection with him anyway and only the impossible restoration of the Holy Roman Empire would bring back Germany's memories of that part of his life. It was enough for him that Est's (19) son hadn't had his life cut short and that he'd been able to grow up and continue living.

"_Merci. Merci ma chère sœur," _France thought in loving gratitude_, "Continue à proteger ton fils, Wisabada."_ (20)

Wisabada had wanted him to watch over her son and help take care of him before she died in the year 966 A.D. and he had failed – there was no other word for it – for nearly 1000 years. He was not taking care of Germany – he didn't need it at this point – but finally... _finally_ they were getting along after centuries of animosity between them. Finally, he was fulfilling Wisabada's dying wish as she had hoped and though over a millennium separated them, the Treaty of Verdun that had separated him and Est in 844 A.D. was finally revoked in the form of her son and embodied in their friendlier relationship as the core of Europe. France hoped to be able to keep it that way as long as possible.

* * *

_And of course, I immediately start off this fic with translation stuff! I apologize (no, I don't) for all the French (I couldn't help myself, so deal). Many of the French translations will not be literal translations._

_(1) Bonjour l'Allemagne (French) - Hello Germany_

_(2) Guten Tag Frankreich (German) - Good day France_

_(3) la Deuxième Guerre Mondiale (French) - World War II_

_(4) Moi? Ah, tu me blesses! (French) - Me? Ah, you wound me!_

_(5) sorella (Italian) - sister_

_(6) À mon avis, l'Italie pense que la fille mignonne de l'Autriche et l'Hongrie est sa petite sœur (French) - In my opinion, Italy thinks that Austria's and Hungary's cute daughter is his little sister._

_(7) Oui, c'est vrai (French) - Yes, that's true._

_(8) Comment terrible (French) - How terrible._

_(9) Nous sommes des bons amis, non? (French) - We are good friends, no?_

_(10) l'Allemagne est très stricte (French) - Germany is very strict._

_(11) Bon Dieu (French) - Good God_

_(12) Deutschland (German) - Germany_

_(13) calmez-vous (French) - calm yourself_

_(14) ce balai-brosse? Il a plus de 500 ans! (French) - this stiff (push) broom? It's over 500 years old!_

_(15) Saint Rome. Pauvre, ****__pauvre_ Saint Rome! Son neveu mignon! Il l'avait tué! (French) - Holy rome. Poor, **poor** Holy Rome! His cute nephew! He had killed him!

_(16) Où? Ce balai-brosse... Où l'avez-vous trouvé? (French) - Where? This stiff broom... Where did you find it?_

_(17) père des Allemands (French) - Father of the Germans._

_(18) Rien (French) - Nothing_

_(19) Est (French) - East_

_(20) __Merci. Merci ma chère sœur. Continue à proteger ton fils, Wisabada (French) - Thank you. Thank you my dear sister. Continue to protect your son, Wisabada._

___Alright, this was the last installment of this fic and it is now done. This chapter takes place around February of 1992, so just shortly after the break-up of the Soviet Union (which happened in December of the previous year) and East Germany (Prussia) broke through the Berlin Wall in the fall of 1989, so he's been reunited with Germany for a couple years now. I actually make a direct reference to a previous fic I wrote, "Two Nations in One State", which focuses on Prussia upon his dissolution to his reunion with Germany, and then a little bit afterwards explaining how he's still not dead yet._

___I hope I did okay here because in real life, Germany and France are now pretty good friends and those countries were essentially the ones who wanted to create a core Europe and I think they proposed the idea in 1994. As far as these characters are concerned, I don't think they'll ever become close friends, but I wanted to show that both of them were trying to move on from their past differences (and bloodshed) for a better, brighter future (which means that Germany needs a WHOLE lot of patience!)._

___Vernacular (everyday language) used in governmental affairs was not a common practice by Thirty Years' War timeframe when (in my headcanon) HRE disappeared. The language of the educated was Latin, so that's why I believe that Holy Rome would have referred to himself in the Latin form of his name, which was Imperium Romanum Sancrum, rather than its German form, __Heiliges Römisches Reich._

_____The Treaty of Verdun was signed in 884 between the three successors of Louis the Pious after he died in which the Carolignian Empire was split up into West Francia, the Middle Kingdom (which fell apart), and East Francia via partible inheritance instead of the oldest child (usually son) inheriting everything._

_____So yeah, in my headcanons, present-day France knows that Germany is really a grown-up Holy Rome, but unless the Holy Roman Empire is restored (I read a piece of fiction where this HRE restoration actually happened in a kind of sorta-alternate Earth, and it stuck with me so much, that I just had to mention it), he won't say a word (and he won't have to because Germany would remember everything)._


End file.
